


Langst One Shot Collection

by bone_boi



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: F/F, F/M, Multi
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-05-27
Updated: 2019-05-28
Packaged: 2020-03-20 11:29:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,366
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18991759
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bone_boi/pseuds/bone_boi
Summary: This is a bunch of Langst I've written over time. It comes from my tumblr, @a-spoopy-bird as well. Or my fanfic.net but I don't really use that anymore.





	1. Dehydration

**Author's Note:**

> words: 2355  
> Whump/theme/topic: dehydration   
> well, i mean, its not much but its honest work.

“Take that! I’m free, baby!” Lance whooped, steering the escape pod towards the closest planet. The Galran cruiser behind him didn’t take action, making Lance believe his get away was smooth.   
He scanned the screens, putting the pod on autopilot so he could get his armor back on. He remembered the face of the Blade member who helped him escape. He silently thanked her, hoping she wouldn’t get caught.   
He shook his head. He should focus on getting to the planet and not crashing. He clasped his armor in place, then slid on his helmet. The display exploded with warnings and audio logs it received when he had gone missing.   
With a start, Lance looked at the date. Five days had passed. He shuddered, wishing just to get to the planet rapidly filling his view. He slid back into the pilot’s seat, taking control of his pod again. He watched the dark orange planet as it crept closer and closer, until a warning flashed on one of his screens.   
ENTERING UPPER ATMOSPHERE! WARNING! INTENSE HEAT DAMAGE MAY OCCUR!  
Lance acknowledged it, then pushed ahead. He didn’t care about intense heat damage. He was free. He could pilot the pod just fine into the atmosphere. He just had to enter at a certain angle, right? How hard could that be?   
Apparently too hard. He felt the craft shudder, and prayed it was only turbulence. He gripped the control stick and pressed forward.   
The pod shook again, and a screen flashed again. He had lost one of his guns. Fine. He wasn’t going to need them, hopefully.   
A memory flashed before his eyes. Gunshots, the harsh Galran face, scarred by too many battles, pain in his inner thigh.   
Lance shuddered, pushing the memory aside. Get to the planet. Signal the Castle. Get saved and sleep for five years. He set his shoulders. He could do this. He guided the craft further into the atmosphere, ignoring the shacking and the screens flashing. He didn’t need weapons; he wasn’t going to need the oxygen system soon anyways. He didn’t care about the left engine going out. As long as he could land.   
The right engine went too. Lance saw it grit his teeth. He was going to have to try to fly low and jump out. He wrestled with the pod to stay level and went as close to the rocky ridges and sandy dunes as he could. He sprang up from the controls, knowing he only had a few seconds before the pod veered off and crashed. He darted to the hatch, throwing it open and leaping out.   
A voice in the back of his head yelled ‘YEET!’ as he tucked and rolled, trying to handle his momentum. His ankles smarted, but he was fine. He heard a deep boom and felt the sound in his bones. He turned to see the pod blown up and on fire, pieces flying everywhere. He stared at it for a moment, not knowing what to do or think.   
“Okay, Lance.” He said out loud. “First thing’s first: take inventory.” He realized that was useless. All he had on him was his bayard. “Okay, next. Uh, what did Coran say?” He tried to think, but he was starting to realize just how hot it was. He held his head in his hands, trying to think. “Oh! Yeah, right. Surroundings. Then signal for help. Okay…” Lance looked around and realized just how awful his environment was. The burnt orange sands had large ridges of burn orange rock jutting out of it. Lance assumed it was probably sandstone, but he wasn’t sure. There didn’t seem to be any life, despite his armor telling him the air was safe to breathe. He scooped up a handful of sand. Just normal, orange sand. Lance bit his lip. Well, he could stay with the pod and set up camp, or he could try to find some life. Or water. Water would’ve been great.   
“Focus, dummy.” Lance chided himself. “Ok, signal. Hope it reaches them.” Lance taped his wrist screen a few times, sending out a signal that Pidge designed for occasions such as this. He looked at the box where he could write a message. He paused, thinking of what to type. “Stuck on desert planet. help pls.” Lance muttered to himself. “Sounds good.” He declared, pressing send.   
He doubted it’d reach the Castle. He’d have to try to rig a better signal, but how would he do that? He wasn’t smart enough to wire it to work correctly, and even if he could, he didn’t have the materials.   
Unless… He looked towards the craft. No, it was too burnt. He wasn’t going to burn his hands off. He could wander off and try to find shelter, but he felt like he might be better where he was.   
An alarm bell went off in his head. The Galra would be able to see the pod. They could track him that way. He sighed, standing up and swaying for a moment. Water would’ve been amazing. He sighed, walking towards the closed ridge, hoping it would provide a little protection.   
He stumbled, getting used to the sand, he hoped. He didn’t feel hurt. He was thirsty, tired, and starving, but he’s felt that was for a few days.   
He gasped as another memory forced its way up. A faceless sentry kicked a small bowl of lumpy, thick brown past into Lance’s cell. The bitter, bland taste seemed to be fresh on his tongue.   
Lane shuddered, trying to focus on the ridge. He looked up into the yellow sky. It didn’t look breathable. Maybe it was like Earth deserts. Breathable but dusty and gross.   
He kept walking towards the ridge. As he walked, the sun rose. The temperature increased, and Lance felt like he was getting boiled. He didn’t know how much longer he’d be able to do this. His brain was being cooked alive. He swayed and stumbled. He couldn’t ignore his itching and dry throat or the hot, dizzy, disoriented feeling.   
He fell with a thump. When did he get on the ground? He shook his head lightly, pushing himself up. Keep walking. To the ridge. To shade.   
The thought of shade made his knees weak. Maybe water, if he was lucky. Water would be better than garlic knots. The thought of food made his stomach gurgle.   
Lance knew what was going to happen just in time. He yanked his helmet off and retched, the acidic taste burning his mouth and throat. He groaned, and for a moment he was fine. Really? He had made that pathetic sound? He spat what he could, disgusted at himself. He struggled to his feet, shoving his helmet back on.   
Lance knew he had to keep going. To shade. To shelter. To wait for the Castle. He could do it. He could walk to the ridge. It wasn’t that far. He mentally urged himself on. Come on, Lance, it’s just walking. You do this for fun. Not further. Just a few hundred feet. Come on. You gotta survive, Hunk is waiting. You’d never forgive yourself if you died now. Just a little further.   
It felt like hours. He stumbled and fell, he dry heaved a few times, then got right back up. He was running on sheer determination. He felt like his bones were molten led, his skin was boiling off, his brain was fried.  
He needed cool, clear water.   
The thought of it made him dizzier with thirst. He wasn’t sure if he moaned, that might’ve just been his pulse in his ears. He tripped over his feet, and his vision clouded and darkened.   
Fear gripped him. He couldn’t pass out there! He had to get up, to get to the ridge. He groaned, arms shaking as he pushed himself up. He looked up. The shade was so close. Just a few more yards. He could do it. The final stretch.   
His vision tunneled. He stood and stumbled forward. He wasn’t walking. He was dragging himself.  
When he stepped into the shade, he collapsed against the rock, coughing weakly. He looked hazily up at the sulfurous yellow sky, head spinning.   
With his final ounce of effort, he made sure he was broadcasting the strongest signal he could to the Castle.   
The slumped forward, panting and sweating. The warm sand felt soft, and he closed his eyes, just for a rest.   
\---   
“Report to the bridge, immediately!” Allura’s voice rang out through the Castle. The paladins ran, already in full armor, to the bridge.   
“Did you find him?” Hunk asked.  
“We caught the distress signal I coded.” Pidge said, tapping through her screens. “Stuck on desert planet. Help pls. Definitely Lance.”   
Hunk sighed in relief. “He’s okay.”  
“We don’t know that. We received the signal just now, but it’s probably been broadcasting longer.” Pidge said. She looked tense. Hunk didn’t blame her.   
“Where is he?” Keith asked. He looked ready to fight anyone who was in his way. Hunk hoped it wouldn’t be him.   
“Hunk, it’s a rocky and sandy desert. Your lion is the best for that environment.” Allura turned to Keith. “You should go with. We don’t know what might be down there. Our biosignature sensors aren’t repaired from out last fight yet.”   
They nodded, then ran down to the Yellow lion’s hangar. She purred and picked up on Hunk’s worry immediately. He climbed into the pilot’s seat, fearing how hurt Lance may be.   
Yellow sped towards the yellow and burnt orange surface of the planet. Guidelines appeared to lead the way to Lance. Hunk’s hear pounded, fearful but also relieved. He pushed Yellow through the atmosphere. She shuddered once, then it was smooth sailing.  
Keith paced around behind him. Swa-tap. Swa-tap. Swa-tap. A pause. Swa-tap, swa-tap, swa-tap. Hunk vaguely noted how he dragged his feet slightly. He must be tired. Hunk was pretty sure he hadn’t slept the entire time Lance was missing.   
“Keith, buddy.” Hunk said.   
“What.” Keith said, voice clipped. He was obviously stressed.   
“We’ll find him.”   
The pacing stopped. “How- how do you know? What if it’s just-” Keith stopped to swallow. He turned to look at Hunk- he had heard the slide of his foot. “What if it’s a trap?” Keith whispered. “What if- what if they still have him, in a different ship, across the universe?”  
Hunk felt a pang of sympathy for Keith. He had felt the same way. “We have to trust it isn’t. Besides, would any self-respecting Galran say ‘pls’?”   
Keith gave a small snort. He continued his warpath from side to side of Yellow’s cockpit.   
They zoomed over the barren, sandy landscape, following the guide to Lance. The suns on this planet were starting to set, turning the landscape into an orange and pink warzone.   
The tracker pinged, and an arrow pointing down appeared at one of the tall ridges of rock.   
“Lance.” Keith whispered. Hunk gently set down near the rock formation, then jumped out, Keith running ahead of him.   
Keith was crouched beside him and had taken his helmet and Lance’s off. He was looking for a pulse. Hunk ran up, panting. He also crouched beside Lance, trying to see something besides his pale skin and the lack of sweat. “He’s alive.” Keith said. Relief flooded through Hunk. “He’s alive, oh, thank God.” Keith stood and tried to pick him up but stumbled and almost fell. Hunk gently scotched past him and lifted Lance, carrying him bridal style.   
“Let’s go. He’s going to need a pod, Coran.”   
“Right. Hurry, you two.” Coran’s concerned voice said through their helmets.   
They hurried back to the lion, Keith biting his lip and trying to look at Lance and not look at Lance at the same time.   
Hunk sped walked up the ramp, carefully setting Lance down in the cockpit. Keith sat down and put Lance’s head in his lap. Keith stroked his hair, murmuring. Hunk didn’t listen. He plopped into his seat and Yellow took off like a bullet. Hunk was fairly certain his lion had never gone that fast before.   
In what seemed like hours, they landed in Yellow’s hangar, and Hunk lifted Lance again.   
Coran was waiting with a stretcher. Hunk set Lance down, and Keith was immediately there. Together, the three of them escorted Lance to the med bay.   
\---   
Whoosh!  
Lance heard it as if it were a long way off. He felt cold, chilled to the bone. Something held him, wrapping him up.  
A memory popped out of nowhere. Being restrained. Guards with guns pointed at him. Being hit by a large, heavy fist.   
Lance gasped, then tried to escape. He pushed and strained as hard as he could, but his limbs were heavy and tired.   
“Lance, it’s okay, shh.” He didn’t stop. Another memory. His friend’s voices bounce and echoing in a small room. Purple lighting with red stained floors. Lies, deception, betrayal.   
A gurgled scream launched from Lance’s throat. He pushed, trying to flee, anything. His eyes flew open, and instead of the smashed, scarred purple face he’d expected to see, he saw Keith.   
Lance drank in his pale skin, violently purple eyes, and awful mullet illuminated with Altean blue lights before a sob welled up in his throat. He threw his arms around Keith, sobbing into his shirt.   
“Easy, it’s alright. You’re safe,” Keith whispered in his ear, holding him almost as tight and Lance was holding him.   
Lance tried to control himself, after realizing he should probably not sob after being in a desert. Keith rubbed his back, soothing him.   
“I- I’m sorry.” Lance gasped, choked up.   
Keith pulled back a little and looked at him. “Why are you sorry?” He asked, puzzled.   
Lance shrugged, dragging the heel of his hand across his face, trying to dispose of his tears. “Sobbing all over you, being a mess, dis- disappearing.” He hiccuped.   
Keith just hugged him again, holding him tight. “It wasn’t your fault, Lance. You’re not the one who should be sorry.” His words carried a darker meaning at the end, but Lance didn’t care. He just sniffled and clung to Keith.


	2. Oh Shit He Dead

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Major character death. :)   
> Lance had been surrounded. Oh, no. What will Keith do?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry in advance  
> 1k words

Keith ran through the maze of halls, frantically searching, anger growing by the minute. The sound of gunshots and sentries falling followed him around the halls. Pidge’s map kept changing and glitching out. He darted left and right, slicing through the few sentries that crossed his path.   
He sprinted around a corner- a dumb move- and saw Lance on the ground, surrounded but a few sentries and two guards. Keith growled, then shouted and charged in, vision going red.   
The guards looked up and grinned. Keith snarled, kicking one in the chest, sending him flying back into the wall, leaving a dent. Keith turned to face the other guard, breathing heavy, baring his teeth.   
The guard backed away, his gun shaking in his hand. This was no human, like the paladin at his feet.   
Keith let out a brutal shout, teeth flashing. The guard yelped, then was thrown back down the hall.   
He didn’t get up.   
Keith didn’t waste any time. He drew his bayard and ran towards the sentries, crisscrossing to avoid the gunfire. He jumped behind them, and cut one down, then dived and tackled another, stabbing it in the face with his sword.   
The third sentry crumbled. Keith looked at it, bewildered, then saw a bullet hole in the side of its head, perfectly centered.   
He turned towards Lance, who was barely on his elbows, the barrel of his bayard smoking. It dissolved, and Lance slumped forward.   
Keith ran towards him, turning him over. His armor was broken and cracked. Blood ran down his hairline and out of the corners of his mouth and out of his nose. He cracked an eye open, the once bright blue iris now dulled and hazy.   
“K-Keith,” He whispered, barely audible.   
“Lance, hold on, I’ll- I’ll get you out of here.” Keith said, voice quivering. He knew it was hopeless. He didn’t want to admit it.   
“Keith, I- I reme-” Lance strained, coughing weakly. He grimaced, blood flowing slightly faster from his mouth.   
“Don’t strain yourself, just hold on, please,” Keith said. He couldn’t believe this was happening. Lance couldn’t- no, he wasn’t going to think about it.   
“I remember it,” Lance managed to whisper, gripping Keith’s arm. Keith was surprised on just how tight his grip was. Lance half pulled himself up, clinging to Keith. “I- I remember the-” he groaned and his fluttered shut for a moment. He held on tighter, now holding both of Keith’s arms. He was desperate to get this message out. “I- I remember, the- the bonding moment…” He groaned, his eye barely open, staring at Keith.   
“Lance, please-” Keith chocked back his tears. He couldn’t cry.   
“I remember it, I- I remember the moment, Keith.” He rasped.   
“Please- please don’t-” Keith silently cursed himself as a tear escaped. He held Lance close. “Please don’t go.” He whispered.   
Lance kept repeating that, he remembered, he was sorry, he didn’t want to die. Keith nodded, trying to stay a little dignified for Lance’s sake. Lance slipped into Spanish, but Keith didn’t care, he just kept nodding and holding on, providing what little support he could.  
Keith held him until the end. Lance’s hands lost their grip and fell. His breathing slowed, grew shallower. He muttered still, words growing fainter and more strained.   
Keith felt Lance grow heavy. Keith slowly pulled away, scared of what he’d see. Lance made eye contact, managing the faintest ghost of a smile. With a soft, final sigh, he looked up, blue eye now a sad, clouded, dull gray.   
“Lance, Lance, please- please don’t-” All the tears and grief he had been holding in broke free. Tears steadily streamed down his face. “Don’t go, please, please don’t go, Please!” Keith cried, voice cracking.   
“Ke- th, in, ple- Keith!” Static crackled through his comms.   
“Hello?” He tapped it a few times. The audio cleared.   
“Keith, where are you? Lance’s biorhythms stopped!” Pidge said frantically.   
Keith’s throat chocked up. Fresh tears gathered in his eyes. “I- I know.” He said quietly.   
Pidge’s voice wavered as she said, “Oh.” He heard her shaky breathing, probably trying to control her emotions. “Pl- please get him here.” She said softly.   
Keith nodded, but she couldn’t see him. He didn’t care. If he talked again, he’d lose it. He gently closed Lance’s eyes. He didn’t understand why people said death was like sleep. Lance didn’t look asleep. He looked small, despite how long his limbs were. He looked too pale, too still, too not Lance. It hurt Keith deep in his chest and gut to think about it, to see it, to acknowledge it.   
He felt like a sleepwalker. He went through the strangely silent and empty halls. He didn’t remember getting into Red. He didn’t remember landing, disembarking with Lance, the cries of his teammates. He didn’t remember taking off his armor- wait, he didn’t have Lance?- he didn’t register any of it.   
Reality caught up to him in the shower. Lance was dead. He wasn’t going to see him ever again. No more taunts. No more competitions. No more jokes. No more 3 am texts, no more getting random memes sent to him.   
Tears fell before he knew what was happening. He leaned against the wall, knees suddenly weak. His stomach was swallowing everything, forming a solid knot. Keith felt like someone had stabbed his heard then ripped the organ out. A sob echoed off the walls, the water sounding hollow and harsh, unfeeling and uncaring.   
Nothing felt right. Everything was too normal. The Castle halls, his bedroom, the sound of the water hitting the floor, it was all too normal.   
Didn’t it understand? Didn’t it get the memo? Nothing would be the same again. Not with Lance gone, without him gracing the halls with laughter and arguments and stupid petty rivalries.  
No. It didn’t. It kept functioning. Keith wished he could. He felt like the world had ended. The war was lost. Everything was hopeless. He sat in the shower and sobbed.   
He sobbed for Lance, for his heart, and for the world where Lance was still here.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> said im sorry


End file.
